


Anew

by 1000trillionpercent



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Blowjobs, Cheating, M/M, POV Second Person, Reunion Sex, past sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 00:42:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7337701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000trillionpercent/pseuds/1000trillionpercent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s just a few inches from straddling your right leg and all you can think about is him. He’s filled out so nicely in the past four years and you can’t help yourself at all. The fact that he’s clad in a tank top doesn’t help you and is only bringing back the mental imagery of him shirtless (and much more) you’re surprised you’re not drooling and rock solid by the time he grabs your attention again and you try to will away the growing heat in your stomach as he speaks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anew

**Author's Note:**

> [Follow me on tumblr](http://1000trillionpercent.tumblr.com)

It's simple to say this is an issue that's plagued you all your life. It's bothered you, but always in the background of your head. You'd try to ignore it, try to play it off as not giving a shit, but in all honesty, you were always a bit /too/ self-conscious about your figure. You certainly weren't an obesity statistic, but your thighs were bigger and your stomach much softer than any of your friends.

 

You toed the line of medically overweight meanwhile every other guy, well. Josh was always naturally a twig. He was a smaller demeanor with sloping shoulders, a figure of sharp angles from bones, his frame a picture of skin, bone, and just the faintest amount of muscle. Mike, practically a model since age sixteen, a dramatic curved in waistline and gorgeous sculpted thighs. He was followed up by Matt, naturally made of all hard muscle that gave him a boxy, yet not at all unpleasant frame.  

 

You'd made the promise to yourself. Now that you're 23, you'd start taking your body seriously. no chickening out a week in. no late night pizza binges. Nothing. just seriousness. It’s helped along by a lot of other things, like how loosely your clothes fit around your to-be fiance’s frame, and how awful putting on a button down is. It’s easier to not notice these things when so much time is spent in sweaters and heavy coats.

 

Cali was nice, is nice, a very welcome change from the frigid weather of Canada, which was another great inspiration. So you’d decided today was day one. After a few hours adjusting to daylight, you threw on a tank top and some baggy shorts and made your way out. A few laps around the local park is a good start, right? You locked the shared apartment door behind you, put in your headphones and made off on your way.

 

By the time you’d made it to the park, your natural weariness had faded off and you’d simply been focusing on your surroundings. it wasn’t too long before you’d made your second lap around the block and you mentally patted yourself on the back for the effort, ignoring the sting in your lungs from lack of breath.

 

Your music was up way too high, and you didn't notice the smaller male tripping mere inches to your left until you felt his frame collide solidly against you. Your vision is a blur of darker brown skin and black hair before you recover from the hit to the grass and manage to gather enough sense to pull a headphone out and ask if he's okay. Or rather, you would have expressed your concern if he hadn't have looked up and mumbled, in disbelief,

 

"Chris?"

 

You lock eyes and seemingly both of you freeze, you can't do anything except stare into his dark brown eyes in disbelief.

 

“Josh?”

  
  
He’s beaming, eyes shining with joy and ride and the emotions hit you like a wall. it’s been so long since you seen him, heard his voice, hell, even /talked/ to him but now here he is and you don’t even have the beginning of a place to start. The last time you’d actually physically seen him it was the day before you left for America. You’d spent that night holding each other. He cried as you fucked and he held your head in place, foreheads pressed firmly together, as he whispered between pants how much he loved you.

 

And in the morning while he was sleeping peacefully, wearing your favorite baby blue sweater, you left. You both called daily, but then, well. You bumped into Ashley. She’d left two years previous because of some acting gig she landed and her messages in group chats were few and far between, so it was such a surprise. You found yourself falling back into that petty middle school crush and eventually found your life consumed by her. Fuck, now you’re sharing an apartment and debating on what day you’ll pop the question. Occasionally your mind drifted to Josh but, you never really felt guilty for your actions and the two of you never put a word to what you had. You’d always suspecting him of having feelings for Samantha but that’s a fun game of where your paranoid jealousy starts and where his signs of genuine attraction begun.  

 

It was never a secret. He’s always known about her, and of your sparse conversations post-move-in, he seemed to act as if he knew this line of action was inevitable. But now that’s completely thrown out the window. He’s hovering over you, sitting on his knees, just a few inches from straddling your right leg and all you can think about is him. He’s filled out so nicely in the past four years and you can’t help yourself at all. He’s still a lot of sharp angles and tight skin but now he’s almost glowing and you can visibly see the growth of muscle in his shoulders and arms. The fact that he’s clad in a tank top doesn’t help you and is only bringing back the mental imagery of him shirtless (and much more) you’re surprised you’re not drooling and rock solid by the time he grabs your attention again and you try to will away the growing heat in your stomach as he speaks.

 

He says you two should hang out sometime and you babble like an idiot until the words come out that you're free for right now and your apartment is just a little ways away. You swear you see mirth in his eyes as he agrees and stands, holding a hand out to help you up as well. If you’ve discovered anything about Josh’s actions through the years, you know he has something planned and you’re torn between completely excited and anxious beyond words.

 

You get back to your apartment in no time and spend the first hour of it playing your collection of awful yet entertaining online multiplayer and collectively knocked back just about all the soda you’d had stored in the fridge. Then, well, eventually your suspicions are confirmed.

 

He says he's opting out of the next round, claiming his playing is shit and he’d rather watch you. Which is not different from when you were kids but you still find yourself unable to stop the red growing on your cheeks and he idly slouches his weight against you and munches on a bag of chips. You end one match at the absolute top of the leader-board and he gives you a congratulatory pat on the thigh except, his hand lingers and you find yourself swallowing hard as you’re distracted by the feeling of him so close to you. Each kill is punctuated by him trailing his hand up just a bit closer to your crotch, almost hesitantly, and by the time the full round is over your face is flushed, your K-D is ruined, and you're on the verge of begging him to just get on with it.

 

You finally give in and turn to face him, and he looks all too delighted at the nonverbal acceptance. In no time you're pulled into a kiss and he’s getting up leading you through the open doorway of your bedroom and gently pushing you down onto your bed. He’s greedily pawing at you within seconds, tugging your tank up off of you, removing his own, then slowly brushing his fingertips against the ever-growing tent in your pants. It takes little to no begging before he’s actually palming you and already you’ve lost the ability to think.

 

Eventually, he stops in favor of tugging your shorts and boxers down and freeing your cock. He gives a few idle strokes as he pulls you into a kiss and then he’s down to work, taking the crown into his mouth and sinking down and, god, you’re gone. you'd thrown an arm over your eyes and let out a pathetic shuddery moan as he bobs on your length with increasing enthusiasm.

 

Each movement is slow, he's dragging out the action as he moves his tongue along your cock, and your hand moves on its own to side under his jaw and nudge him up. He pulls off immediately and your eyes meet again. You absolutely /melt/ at the love in his eyes. If you had the mental leverage you’d be literally and figuratively beating yourself for ever abandoning this. His lips are moving along your hips, to the insides of your thighs, and finally to your cock, pressing feather-light kisses along your shaft and teasing along the base with his tongue.

 

It’s all such sweet torture and you can't get much more than a strangled swear out before you've hit your peak and spilling, painfully early, over your stomach. You swear you see a smirk pulling at his lips as he moves to tongue your slit as the last few streaks leave you, and then he's taking you back into his mouth. A shaky sigh leaves you as he sucks you dry. Your body buzzes through the orgasm and you feel your legs beginning to tremble. After a few seconds he's pulling his mouth off and leaning forward, tongue slowly swiping at the pool of seed that's collected just below your belly button. He's lapping it up and pressing a kiss once his tongue grabbed all it could. He continues until your stomach is completely clean and your face is absolutely burning.

 

You manage a breathy chuckle and he returns the sentiment, standing back up and licking his hand clean. **_God._**  You, for the faintest second, see the bulge pressed against his thigh by his boxers and you want to say something, fuck, more than anything you want to touch him again for the first time since you were teenagers. but he cuts off that train of thought by collecting his shirt from the floor and speaking up,

 

"Well, Han's probably wondering where I ran off to, I was supposed to only be running out to get pizza. It was nice seeing you again, Chris." He smirks his way through the last sentence and you can't help the feeling of total dumbfoundedness that's crashing over you.

 

But that's overpowered by the anxiety of him disappearing from your life all over again.

 

You struggle out a "Wait!" reaching out but not quite far enough to get a grip on his arm as he walks from your room. He pauses at the doorway and looks back at you.

 

"I live just down the road, so, I'm sure we'll manage to bump into each other again sometime soon. Hopefully for a bit longer this time?” Your face burns and you want to mount an excuse, say it’s been a while or something but he’s speaking up again before you could form the words “By the way, tell Ashley I said hi." and then he's gone. you flop back onto your bed and heave a sigh.

 

Daily jogs are definitely going to become more of a thing now.

 


End file.
